


Not Exactly a Vegas Wedding

by CorruptCorpseCorps



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Accidental Marriage, Angst and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Multi, Polyamory, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2169570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorruptCorpseCorps/pseuds/CorruptCorpseCorps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out holding an Infinity Stone together has long-term consequences.  Too bad no one bothered telling the Guardians! Now between being married to at least two biologically-incompatible beings and having everyone in each others' heads, it's not exactly going to be The Honeymooners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue

Peter Quill knew it wasn't the smartest thing to do, grabbing after the stone like it was part of an insane game of cosmic keep-away, but he'd never exactly been the sharpest knife in the-

_Pain. It was like holding onto a miniature sun. Fire racing through his blood. Electricity tearing every molecule in his body apart. He was coming undone at the seams, just like that poor girl on Knowhere-_

"Peter! Take my hand!"

Her words register dimly through eardrums that had been shattered and reformed a thousand times over. And then it was not Gamora, beautiful deadly vulnerable Gamora, who was calling him but - 

_She was shrunken, withered and dying, but still beautiful as she plaintively called to him across fathoms and starways of grief and guilt._

_"Peter. Take my hand."_

Her words tore at him, clawing up a small frightened boy under layers of charm and greed.

_"Mom?"_

He could no more have ignored her cry than he could have ignored his own heartbeat ( _the power was tearing away at that fragile muscle as it was_ ) and so he stretched out his hand and - 

He was she and she was he. He was a crying orphan torn from her parents' warm corpses and she was a sobbing boy fleeing from his mother's death. He was her grief and she his guilt. He was on an operating table as they tore through muscle and bone to lay down ice hot steel and cybernetics and she was huddled in the corner of a filthy ship as a blue man charmingly asked if she wanted to be tonight's dinner. They were…

_It was still too much. Even as his pain lessened, hers increased and rebounded back to him in an eternal feedback of energy. He could feel her own flesh and the steel underneath shiver and become undone and screams echoed between them -_

Pressure on his shoulder and they were joined by a third. He was her and she was him and he was him. He was grief and pain underneath rage and vengeance. She was loss and an aching void where once the two most precious people of his life had been. He was their own fear, loss, guilt, and grief. He was Quill's charm and Gamora's grace and slowly the pain began to lessen…

_They cried in unison, but it was now a defiant scream of triumph and slowly, ever so slowly, the power bent to their will. But still, they were not strong enough to contain it. It licked at the pitiful bonds which kept them together. They needed-_

A tiny hand clasped his/their finger and more pain entered, more unchecked grief. They were a caged animal, tugging frantically at his/their restraints. They were his pain and fear and horror as they/he were made into a freak, a monster, that never belonged anywhere. They were his grief at the loss of Groot, a friend who he'd/they'd always took for granted, never appreciated enough. He was their loss and fury and guilt. He was an orphan, a warrior, an assassin, a liar, a daughter, a father. He was them and they were him.

_Another lingered at the corners of their mind, but they did not know whether it was the stone, their own mangled thoughts twisted together, or the fifth (he/they dared not hope, dared not dream). For now, they were steadied, the four (five) of them stood strong as finally the stone's power accepted their will._

Their enemy seemed almost pitiful now, as he stared at them in shocked disbelief.

"Impossible! You're mortal. How...?"

"You said it yourself, bitch." A smile lingered on his/their lips, "We're the Guardians of the Galaxy."

_The power flowed from all them, their will to erase their wife and daughter's murderer, their friend's killer, their shared enemy. His screams echoed even after the stone ripped him apart atom by atom. But as their task was completed, the stone's power was directionless and they could not hold it for-_

Gamora had the presence of mind to contain the stone and just like that, the connection was broken. Even as the stone's power left them, an aching feeling remained, humming with some strange frequency. Something remained there, at the back of their minds, but they were too exhausted to pay it much mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what I get for listening to "Black Tears" over and over again. I'll try to finish this soon!


	2. Dreams and Bacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee chases dreams away.

_He was in the kitchen in a late afternoon, the ruddy sun beaming through the window to send splashes of rainbows from the prisms his mother suspended in front of the window. They bounced off the soapy water in the sink as he and his mother washed the dinner dishes. Or rather his mom washed and he dried. From the radio in the corner, Michael Jackson wailed about Billy Jean and her baby not being his. His mom didn't really like Jackson, calling him more style than substance, but he loved how the man could dance._

_"If someone says they don't like dancing, you just need to get that stick out of their butt." His mother said._

_"Like Kevin Bacon." He replied._

_"Kevin Bacon doesn't know shit," Yondu sat at the kitchen table playing poker with Kraglin, the Broker, and Han Solo, "Raise ya three hearts?"_

_"I always shoot first." Han Solo smirked as he picked up a card._

_"I fold." The Broker said with disgust._

_"See, baby?" His mother wrapped an affectionate arm around him, "That's why you never bluff unless you have an ace up your sleeve."_

_He hugged her back._

_"Don't leave me, Mom." He whispered._

_"My love is alive, way down in my heart, although we are miles apart." She sang back. But then she was gone. The room was empty and he was alone._

Drax awoke, his throat tight from some strange sadness not his own. It was all so surreal. He had never dreamed before. His people, as a rule, did not dream. Some claimed to, but they were dismissed as eccentrics or charlatans. And yet, in the past few weeks, he had somehow been dreaming. His dreams were filled with faces and places he did not recognize but somehow knew. He wondered if this was an after-effect of sharing the power of an Infinity Stone, and if so, how long it would last.

As he had no desire to return to sleep, he left his bunk and entered the kitchen area of the Milano. Peter Quill was already there, a strange look on his face as he brewed the day's coffee. Groot stood dreamily in the corner, studying the blank screen of the com. Several weeks after his miraculous recovery, he was almost fully grown to his former height and had regained much of his former strength. 

"Mornin' Drax. Cup o' joe?" Peter smiled.

At first he wondered if Peter had another kind of drink to offer, but from the way Peter gestured to the still-dripping pot, he meant coffee. Talking with the half-Terran was a constant confusing conundrum that required a Galactic dictionary to parse through the unfamiliar phrases. He'd just accepted that any statement that made no sense was most likely a metaphor, and therefore not worth getting confused over.

"Thank you." Drax accepted the steaming mug. 

Gamora entered soon after, running a towel through her damp hair. She was usually the first one to wake and spent the first hour or so of her day doing simple calisthenics and katas. Drax admired her discipline. His wife, it still stung to remember even now, had been much the same.

"Coffee." She muttered. 

Peter already had a mug held out warily. One of the first days they had spent aboard the Milano, he'd made the mistake of approaching Gamora prior to her consumption of caffeine. A knife at his throat had soon taught him to offer coffee before any form of greeting in the morning. Drax hid a smile as he sipped at the hot, bitter liquid.

Rocket stumbled in soon after. The genetically-modified creature tended to rise late due to staying up all hours of the night tinkering with his devices. He climbed up on the table and poured himself a tall mug of coffee. Using both of his hands, he tipped the mug and took several hearty swallows before wiping his muzzle with a satisfied gasp.

"Ugh, better. Where're we at, Quill?"

"Somewhere around the gamma quadrant. Heard a local planet's been having trouble with raiders fleecing their merchant ships. I figure we could make their problem disappear, then accept some rewards from the locals."

"Out here?" Rocket snorted in disdain, "What kind of reward could a place out in the boonies give us? Rain sticks? Bobble-headed dolls?"

"It's a job, Rocket. Not like we have much else." Peter rummaged through the cupboards until he found a bottle of sweetener and squeezed a healthy amount into his coffee. Unlike the others, Peter could not stand his coffee black. Drax found the fact that his captain favored sweet things a bit...endearing. His captain was such a strange creature, one moment a playful boy, the next a man wise and brave enough to lead a band of misfits to safeguard the galaxy. Drax supposed there was some sort of logic to the paradox.

"Feh, you ask me, we could do better," Rocket grumbled, "Still don't know why we can't go after bounties like me an' Groot used to."

"Because whenever we do, the collateral damage usually outweighs the reward." Gamora replied calmly, putting together her usual breakfast meal of ground nuts and cereal mixed with some protein milk.

"I am Groot." Groot said in agreement.

"Traitor." Rocket glared in Groot's direction.

"Look, you don't like it, just sit this one out." Peter was placing several strips of Yagath bacon on the fryer and soon the crackling scent of frying meat filled the kitchen.

"What? And let you creeps have all the fun?" Rocket scampered over and snatched up the Astorian donut Drax had been planning to eat. He gave the genetically-modified creature a deadpan glare and resolved to eat all of the bacon as recompense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies on the spotty updating. I thought it best to give a slice-of-life of the unknowingly newly-married group before the big revelation. Kudos to anyone who recognizes the Firefly reference!


End file.
